


Like Light off a Prism

by Adenil



Series: Stark Spangled Banner [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, For Science!, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Stark Spangled Banner - Freeform, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, fun with refractory periods, seriously 13 k words of porn, so much porn, sort of dom!Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3061382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adenil/pseuds/Adenil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“So.” Tony licked his lips. “Do you think the Super Soldier Serum affects refractory periods?”</i><br/><i>It sounded like a fine basis for an experiment if ever Bruce heard one.</i><br/>*<br/>After the events of Across the Room Bruce, Steve, and Tony have an experiment to conduct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Light off a Prism

**Author's Note:**

> There is a stealth joke or two in the title of this work.

“I had a thought.”

Bruce glanced up from the Ultron designs he was futzing with and blinked at Tony. Tony was leaning against the bench, staring off into the middle distance with his finger tapping his chin. He seemed deep in thought, actually, and it made Bruce smile slightly, a warm feeling growing in his chest. “Yes?”

“You know when Steve and I…” Tony made a gesture with one hand and glanced towards Bruce briefly before continuing his contemplation of the universe.

Bruce could have filled in the blank with, ‘Had sex for my enjoyment while I sat sadly across the room wishing I could touch myself?’ but instead he said, “Yeah.”

“The whole time after during our very fine cuddling session—which was one of the best parts, I might add.” Tony flashed him a literally-award-winning smile and Bruce warmed even more. “He was totally turned on; did you notice?”

Bruce ran his thumb over the smooth metal beneath his hands, considering. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, he was sporting a pretty good woody,” Tony said, and Bruce winced at his odd choice of words. “But I don’t think he wanted us to notice.” Tony got a strange, feral glint in his eyes and Bruce winced again. “So.” Tony licked his lips. “Do you think the Super Soldier Serum affects refractory periods?”

It sounded like a fine basis for an experiment if ever Bruce heard one.

*

“It does,” Steve said simply. He shrugged easily and gave an aw-shucks grin that really made Bruce want to make out with him.

He and Steve were alone in what Bruce had dubbed ‘The Room’ (to which Tony had easily replied, “It’s okay, Brucie Bean, you can call it the sex dungeon” and leered despite the room’s complete lack of dungeon qualities). It was almost exactly as they had left it last time, with his chair off to one side and the bed the focus of the room with its neatly turned down silken sheets practically screaming to be sullied. The lights were a warm orange, perfect for observing the going-ons. The only addition was a mini-fridge which Bruce had stocked with water.

“Do you know by how much?” Bruce pulled his stylus from behind his ear and began to make little notes on his StarkPad.

Steve shrugged again, and this time he looked slightly uncomfortable. Bruce noted that down. “It’s, uh, I’m not sure. They gave me a few nude comics and some petroleum jelly and sent me away. But as long as I kept hydrated it seemed I could go on indefinitely.” He flushed a pleasant pink color. “I got bored before my body was ready to stop.”

Bruce, who had been frantically taking notes, nodded along. “It seems that _that_ , at least, is not in your files.” He noted Steve’s sigh of relief. “But, if you’re up for it, Tony and I would like to create some new data for you.”

He glanced up from his StarkPad over the rims of his glasses and tried to keep down his excited smile. It was a cheap trick, actually. Tony always complained when he did that, saying that it wasn’t fair that Bruce could look so attractive when Tony wasn’t allowed to jump him. Bruce thought, hey, it might work on Steve, too.

It seemed it did. Immediately any residual tension leaked out of Steve’s shoulders and he smiled back. When he spoke his voice was warm, affectionate. “Sure, Bruce. What do you need from me?”

“We need you to fuck me until you can’t anymore.”

They both glanced up, Bruce a little surprised that Tony had managed to sneak up on them. He sensed an immediate tension grip the room as Tony and Steve locked eyes, Tony at maximum swagger as he brushed shower-damp hair from his forehead, Steve rigid at attention. Bruce took a solemn moment to appreciate the quirk to Tony’s lips, and the tiny bead of water that snaked down from behind his ear to trace a path along the curve of his neck before disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

“Tony,” Steve said. He seemed like he was unsure whether he was supposed to be stiff or welcoming. He glanced at Bruce and Bruce smiled back at him, sending waves of _be welcoming, damn you_ towards him.

“Captain,” Tony said back. His sardonic grin seemed unsure of how to stay on as he swaggered over. He placed one hand on Bruce’s arm and leaned in to give him a soft, gentle kiss. Kisses like that were still just about as intense as Bruce would allow them to go, so Bruce savored it.

After far too short a time he had to pull back. He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses back up his nose before returning to his StarkPad. “I’ll just be, um…”

“Bruce is our impartial observer.” Tony hooked his thumb towards him and smirked at Steve, who looked extremely doubtful of the ‘impartial’ portion of that statement. “He actually gets the best part of the job. Pure scientific method, right here.”

“It’s not exactly the scientific—” Bruce began, but he was cut off when Tony gave him another peck on the lips.

Steve seemed not to want to look directly at them when they kissed, which was ridiculous considering what they were about to do. He glanced around, uncomfortable, and asked, “Are you sure that’s safe? I mean, it’s...indefinite.”

“All those calendar models have prepared me for this,” Tony said.

Before Steve could launch into another lecture about not talking about past conquests in front of your current  boyfriend, Bruce waved them both towards the bed. “It will be fine, Steve. I’m observing, and I’ll put a stop to anything that would hurt either of you.” He made another note on his pad, in big bold red, to do just that. Not that he needed a reminder, but it made him feel better.

“And you’ll be okay.” Steve, somehow, looked even more nervous. “Last time got a little intense.”

“He means you almost turned big and green and screwed us both through the next eighty floors,” Tony supplied helpfully.

“Yes, thank you Tony.” Bruce glared at him. “I’ve upgraded my watch,” he said, twisting it in the air to demonstrate. “It’s set to administer a tranquilizer if things get hairy.”

“It was my idea,” Tony told Steve.

Bruce frowned. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Well, I designed the housing that made it work, anyway.” Tony’s eyes brightened and he leaned in for another quick kiss before turning and shoving Steve on the bed.

Or, he tried to. But Steve was a brick wall and the shove only served to throw Tony slightly off balance. Steve blinked at him, muttered, “Oh,” and then fell backwards on the bed in a comical fashion.

Bruce rolled his eyes at their display and shuffled over to his chair. He took a few more notes, catching up on the last few minutes, as Tony and Steve argued over positioning. They wound up with Tony kneeling between Steve’s legs with Steve on his back, glaring up at the ceiling. Bruce frowned at that glare, wondering which part of the argument he had tuned out.

“All right.” Bruce cleared his throat. He checked his watch, the StarkPad, and the general level of arousal in the room. It was not high, but he knew it would get there. “I’m ready to begin data collection.”

Tony smirked. “This is going to be great,” he said. He splayed his hands over Steve’s chest and began touching him all over like he was smoothing the wrinkles from Steve’s shirt. “Don’t you worry, Captain. Just lie back and think of America.”

Steve rolled his eyes practically right out of his head. He looked desperately over at Bruce, silently begging Bruce to get Tony to stop being so, well...so Tony.

Bruce glanced down at his StarkPad and pretended not to see. He sketched a little drawing of the way Tony’s hands curled against Steve’s side, long fingers framed against the grey t-shirt, and frowned. He wished that he could have Steve in two places at once so that Steve could draw what he was seeing.

His glasses were sliding down, so he pushed them up again. “Steve,” he said, not sharply, but with that certain level of command that had worked so well last time. He could see Steve’s hand inching up towards Tony’s wandering ones, but Steve stilled at the sound of his voice. “Place your hands flat against the bed. For this first test we need a good baseline. Do not touch Tony until I say you may.”

Steve sucked in a slight breath, but obeyed. His fingers flattened against the bedspread and his legs slipped open a little wider. He twisted his gaze away to stare intently up at the ceiling as Tony ran his hands lower, lower, to trace along the waist of his pants.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Tony cooed at him. “I earned my playboy title the old-fashioned way.” He traced his hands lower, over the curved bulge tenting Steve’s jeans. “We’ll have you dry and sated in no time.”

Steve seemed unsure. Bruce noted him biting his lip, the long slow pull of it, pink against his teeth, before speaking up. “Bruce, can I talk?”

Bruce startled at that. Tony looked amused. Bruce hadn’t said that he _couldn’t_ , but… “Only if you are asked a direct question, or you need to stop.”

Steve nodded at that. Bruce watched his eyes flutter shut beneath Tony’s ministrations. Tony had been taking it slowly at first, but now his hands began to speed up, his touch became rough and demanding instead of slow and searching. He shoved one hand up under Steve’s shirt and Steve shifted up to allow him to expose the smooth expanse of his stomach. Tony traced his abs with one hand as the other grasped his cock firmly through fabric and began to stroke.

Steve sucked in a breath, and another, trying to remain calm. Bruce thought that was silly (he wasn’t the one with an enormous green rage monster problem, after all), but he diligently took notes instead of interfering. Tony soon had him straining against his own will, desperate for more touch but unwilling to move his hands to get it. They fisted in the sheets and smoothed out. Bruce watched the movement, noted it.

“Huh,” Tony muttered. He leaned in suddenly, folding himself over Steve’s body to whisper in his ear. Bruce couldn’t hear what he said, but it must have been pretty good to get Steve’s eyes to open in outrage. Steve ground his teeth together, but before he could break the no-talking rule Tony flipped open the front of his pants one-handed and reached in.

Bruce noted the desperate arch to Steve’s back, the thin whine that escaped his throat. He could see, against Steve’s neck, just the corner of Tony’s smirk as he stroked him. Bruce knew how clever Tony’s hands were, be they buried in metal or dancing over skin, and he shifted in his chair in sympathy.

“Doing well,” Bruce heard himself say. He yanked himself away from the weird, floaty headspace he was threatening to sink into as he watched two beautiful men tangle together. “Steve, there’s no need to hold back. This experiment is about you, after all.”

Steve grunted and pursed his lips together. He rocked his hips into the motion of Tony’s hands once before stilling.

“Seriously,” Tony said, loud enough for Bruce to hear. “You’re too uptight.” He punctuated his statement with something Bruce couldn’t see, but made Steve writhe beneath him. “Let loose. Bruce needs you to come, Steve.”

The effect was immediate. Steve’s writhing took on a new form as he squirmed beneath Tony, fists desperately clenched in the sheets. His mouth opened to suck in deep lungfuls of air. He twisted and turned and Tony leaned in to bite along the length of his neck, leaving pink teeth marks that quickly faded.

Tony shoved Steve’s legs apart and needed both hands to yank his fly open and pull out his dick. His movements were fast now, rough, as he jacked Steve off and suckled at his neck until Steve’s eyes were a wide, vacant blue.

Bruce wanted to say something, anything, but he was entranced as Tony squeezed Steve roughly and sunk his teeth right into Steve’s shoulder. Steve gasped and went rigid, his entire body twitching as he came into Tony’s hand. Tony stroked him through it until Steve seemed spent and went limp. Then, carefully, Tony released his jaw and rubbed the tension out on Steve’s chest.

“That’s one,” Tony said cheerily, then he slithered down Steve’s body in a flash and sucked him into his mouth.

Bruce realized, dimly, that he was supposed to be taking notes. He wrote down something—something about the way Steve tried to bite at his lip to stop the desperate, “Hell,” that tumbled from his mouth as Tony blew him.

“Sorry,” Steve said to Bruce. His voice was lower than usual, and Bruce noted that down.

“That’s alright,” Bruce said. “Speaking was an involuntary reaction.” He noted that, too, and added a little footnote that just read ‘hot’.

Bruce tried to keep focused on writing down Steve’s reactions, but it was difficult. He was caught up in the smooth slide of Tony’s mouth over Steve, over the hollow of his cheeks, the desperate wet sucking sounds as Steve tried not to buck his hips up. His hips were twitching now, legs almost painfully tense. Tony curved one hand around the base of Steve’s cock and sucked at him harder.

Steve filled out in Tony’s mouth. Bruce wrote that down, deleted it, and then tried to write down something that sounded detached and scientific, but failed.

He cleared his throat. “Steve,” he said. “When you come you must warn Tony. Do you understand?”

Steve nodded. His entire body was tense with effort. His fingers were clawed into the bedspread. Bruce watched as Tony’s head bobbed between his legs and realized his own pants were uncomfortably tight. He did not write that down.

Tony bobbled, sucked, and his tongue peeked out to twirl around the head of Steve’s cock. That was, apparently, enough for Steve to gasp.

“Tony, I’m, I’m—” He cut himself off with a jerk of his hips.

Tony twisted closer, arched up, and Bruce could see his throat working to swallow, but it wasn’t enough. Come dribbled down the front of his chin, staining his beard and Steve’s jeans even more than before. Bruce was oddly entranced as Tony pulled away with a wet popping sound and licked his lips absent-mindedly.

Bruce checked the time to distract himself, and carefully wrote down the time index for both orgasms. He also noted the way Steve was strung out, shoulders tense and eyes closed, and the way Steve’s cock was already filling again.

Tony was back to looking smug, eyes hazy with lust. He smirked over at Bruce. “Best blow job in Steve Rogers’ life, write that down.”

“That was not the best in my life,” Steve snapped. Then, he froze. He looked nervously to Bruce and mouthed, “Sorry,” again.

Tony looked offended. Bruce just laughed. “I think we have a good baseline. Although, I wish I could measure the volume… But, ah, you may speak and move. From this point forward clothing is optional.”

Tony immediately grabbed at Steve’s jeans and shucked them off. It was an astonishingly fluid gesture, and Bruce wondered if Tony had practiced it. Probably, he decided. Tony made quick work of Steve’s clothes as Steve tried to shove him away and do it himself. Steve’s clothes were a little pile on the floor when Tony leaned over him and began sucking at his neck again.

Steve curled one leg over the back of Tony’s knee and breathed into the attention. His eyes were frantic, searching, but when his gaze fell to Bruce in his little chair across the room, Bruce held it. He smiled benevolently at Steve and Steve shivered back.

“You’re doing very well, Steve,” Bruce said. “We’re getting a lot of good data.” Steve shivered again, and Bruce noted that down. He wondered, fleetingly, what it was about this situation that got Steve hot and bothered. This would have been the worse possible sexual fantasy for Bruce—too much of that being-watched feeling, of feeling like an experiment. But Steve seemed into it. But, maybe it was just the idea of being taken care of. Of letting Bruce take on all the burdens of worrying. Bruce could sympathize with that.

He took careful notes as Tony nipped at Steve’s neck and traced hot lines down his chest with his nails. Tony captured Steve’s nipples between his fingers and twisted, dragging a gasp from Steve’s lips. Tony was rough, but steady. Bruce could see him shifting uncomfortably above Steve, and knew that this was doing something for him, too.

Bruce cleared his throat again and tried to tear his gaze from where it had landed on Tony’s ass ensconced in his jeans. “What’s the plan here, Tony?”

Tony pulled away from Steve’s neck looking a little dazed. “Well, since someone is picky about blowjobs I’ll have to try something else.” He dropped his hand to tug at Steve’s erection absently as he talked. “I prepped myself before I came, so I could ride him. How’s that sound?”

Bruce went still. He could feel his own erection responding shamefully to all the mental images that statement conjured. But then he realized he didn’t have to imagine it. He could have it, right then.

“Sure,” he said, aiming for flippant. He pretended to be taking notes again. “Go right ahead.”

He could feel Tony’s pout in each of his movements as he slipped off the bed. His hands fell to his jeans and he shucked them off with that same fluid grace before toeing off his socks. He tugged at the front of his shirt for a moment before steeling. Bruce could practically see the moment when Tony mentally dared himself to do it, and then Tony pulled the shirt up and over his head.

Bruce had to stop himself from making a sound, knowing that Tony would take it the wrong way. But, dammit, Tony was just so _attractive_. He was all lean muscles. His chest was nearly hairless, but Bruce knew that was due in large part to the spidering scar where the arc reactor had once rested. It had actually healed nicely, the doctor in him noted. It was a pale, almost-white pink. Bruce let his eyes trace over Tony’s body—the perfect proportion to his shoulders, the width of his chest, down to the triangle of hair that led to his swelling dick. He could probably look at Tony all day and not get bored of it.

Tony’s smirk caught his attention. “Like what you see, Banner?” he asked, trailing his hand through the hair over his stomach, then lower, but not quite low enough for Bruce’s tastes.

Bruce arched an eyebrow at him. “You should be able to get the job done.”

“Aw, jeeze,” Steve said. He covered his face with his hands.

Tony just rolled his eyes. (Bruce half expected him to stick out his tongue like a kid, but he didn’t.) Bruce tried to focus very carefully on not getting anymore aroused as Tony turned on his heel and exposed his long, lean back before he crawled back onto the bed. It was a lost cause.

Tony slung one of his pale legs over Steve’s ridiculously tan ones and settled down on Steve’s stomach. Tony had that smirk on his face again, but it seemed uncertain, tacked on at the last second in lieu of some other hidden emotion.

This was another one of those views he wished he could get Steve to draw. He admired the curve of Tony’s spine, the equally beautiful curve of Steve’s erection nestled against his ass. As he watched, Tony raised a hand to tug at his own cock slowly, putting on a little show for the two of them.

Steve glanced down at where Tony was touching himself, gulped, and then glanced to Bruce. He glanced back and forth—from Tony, to Bruce, to Tony again—before finally settling his pleading look on Bruce.

“He said he was ready, Steve,” Bruce said. “Take him for me, will you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. His voice cracked in the middle. His hands fell to Tony’s hips, uncertain as Tony continued to slowly jack himself off.

Tony finally found some… something. Humility, maybe, or fondness. His other hand snaked back to hold Steve steady and he took pity on Steve’s uncertainty for long enough to shift back and line Steve up. He sat back, slowly, slowly, and Bruce couldn’t see exactly what was happening, but he thought that _surely_ Tony would not be able to take Steve all the way in. But Tony’s expression turned blissful as he shifted down until he was seated flush against Steve’s quaking hips.

Bruce wrote something down that he knew was complete gibberish in a desperate attempt to distract himself.

He could feel his cock throb in appreciation for all that he could see. For the tense line of desirous concentration creasing Steve’s forehead. For the way Tony’s smirk tempered as he adjusted, into something almost resembling a pleasant smile. Bruce was hard. So hard it was painful. He could see himself standing atop the slippery slope of going too far, but he could not have cared less. He let the hand holding the stylus fall to his crotch and he stroked once, twice, with his thumb as lightly as possible just to take the edge off.

When he came back to himself, he saw Steve looking at him in awe.

“All right,” Tony said a bit breathlessly. “I think that’s—”

Steve cut him off with a roll of his hips. Tony gasped at the motion and pitched forward slightly, supporting himself on one arm as he began to move in earnest. Steve never took his eyes off of Bruce.

Bruce tried to look away, but he couldn’t. He settled for making himself as small as possible in his observer’s chair and listened to all the glorious noises Tony was making.

“Ah, fuck, Bruce you would not believe...” Tony threw his head back and shifted again, spreading his legs wantonly as he impaled himself on Steve’s cock again and again. “Two already and he’s still so hard. I could ride him all day.”

“Will you?” Bruce asked. He was shocked at how mild his voice sounded. He checked his watch and was surprised to see how low his heart rate was.

Tony looked coquettishly over at him, eyelashes batting. “Want me to?” He slowed his hips down, and Bruce was mesmerized by the shape of Steve’s hands there. He wondered if Tony would have two hand-shaped bruises to contend with tomorrow. “Do you want me to ride him all day, Bruce? Get my rocks off while you watch?”

Yes, Bruce did. He wanted to watch. He also wanted to stand up, walk over, and kiss the living daylights out of Tony. Kiss the remnants of that smirk right off his face and lick his way into Tony’s mouth as Steve watched, held helpless by his own pleasure. Instead he made a few notations on his StarkPad.

“This is about quantity, Tony,” he said.

“You’re right.” Tony quirked an eyebrow at him and his slow movements became more focused. “What do you think?” He was clearly talking to Steve, but his gaze never wavered from Bruce. “What’s it take to get you to come inside me, Steve?” His hand quickened on his own cock. “Fill me right up and give Bruce all the data he needs?”

“This’ll probably do it,” Steve said. Interestingly enough, that statement had Tony looking offended again. Steve just laughed once, breathlessly, and went on. “Although, if you were to come around me, that’d be swell.”

Tony faltered, eyes wide. Bruce could practically see him puzzling through that. Was it ridiculous or sexy that Steve could say things like ‘swell’ in the middle of sex unironically? Then suddenly Tony snapped his hips down and his hand really went to town as he stroked himself.

More notes. One on the sheen of sweat on Steve’s brow, the matching sheen on Tony’s lower back (that would have been perfect for licking off, but Bruce couldn’t do that). Another on the tight roundness of Tony’s ass as he slapped down again and again against Steve, pleasuring himself on Steve desperately. A final note on Tony’s neck, how perfectly it arched as he threw his head back and closed his eyes and came in great white spurts all over Steve’s chest.

Steve gasped and bucked up, shoving Tony down lower with his broad hands as he came, too, mouth parted almost in confusion.

Bruce watched Tony and Steve breathe in once, together in unison, and something inside him snapped like a twig.

“Steve, I need more from you. Do what you need to Tony.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed—” The rest of Tony’s complaint was lost as Steve grabbed him and flipped him over onto his back, rolling so he was on top and Tony’s legs were wrapped around his waist.

Bruce expected him to pause, but that definitely did not happen. Steve fucked him right into the mattress as Tony’s come smeared between them and Tony gasped.

“Holy shit,” Tony said with a touch of awe. “Fuck, Bruce, he’s rock hard again. Write that down.”

Bruce did.

“Need to be,” Steve grunted into Tony’s neck. “Bruce asked.”

Something warmed in Bruce’s chest, right next to the warmth he was always holding for Tony. “That’s very good, Steve,” he praised. “You’re doing so well. Take him as many times as you can. Push yourself.”

Steve groaned and went still. The look on Tony’s face told Bruce he’d just come again and Bruce felt his hand moving automatically to make note of that. Steve’s refractory period was tiny. But, at some point he had to run out of steam, right?

Steve started to pull back. For a moment, Bruce thought he might be pulling out entirely. Tony apparently thought the same thing, judging by the fleeting look of disappointment that fluttered over his features. But Steve merely hooked his arms under Tony’s knees and lifted his legs up, giving himself a better angle.

“Okay,” Tony said as Steve began to move again. Both of Tony’s hands came up to grasp at Steve’s arms, squeezing tightly at the muscles there as Steve pinned him down. “Okay, that’s…” he let out a breathless laugh. “That’s pretty much the perfect angle right there,” he managed.

Bruce could see Tony’s cock twitching against his stomach with each thrust. He knew, intellectually, the pleasure Tony was feeling as Steve stroked against that hot pleasure button inside him. He was still slightly awed as Tony began filling out again. He wondered if Tony had been exposed to the Super Soldier Serum and then, with a frown, he wrote a note to himself to check. From what he knew of Howard, it was possible.

“Tell me what you’re feeling Steve,” he said.

“Hot,” Steve said immediately. “He’s so slick and wet; I-I think Tony’s right, Bruce.”

“Of course I’m right,” Tony said. They both ignored him.

Bruce blinked, surprised at both the stutter and Steve ever admitting Tony could be right about anything. “About what?” he asked.

“I could. I could fuck him all day and never, never be satisfied.” He shifted, and his hips stuttered along with his voice as he went tense with the force of another orgasm. He’d shifted just right so that Bruce could see his balls contracting, pulled taut against his body as he shuddered and filled Tony even more.

Damn. Three in less than five minutes. Bruce wrote that down.

Tony was hard again, but didn’t touch himself as Steve took him again, fucking him until Tony suddenly clamped his teeth together hard and came a second time. There was less this time, but Bruce was still impressed.

Bruce knew that Tony wasn’t fighting, not really. He was just tense with the effort of not letting Steve get the edge over him. Still, Bruce could see the proverbial fight when it left Tony. It was the exact second Steve bent down to lick a stray drop of come from his chest, pink tongue darting out to lap it up.

Tony’s body went lax. His arms dropped and he let Steve fold him in half as Steve reamed into him. His hands didn’t even fist the covers. He just let his body become a thing to be used; a thing for Steve to take pleasure in.

Bruce tried to breathe slowly and calmly, but it was so difficult as Steve moved faster and faster, blurring, before his perfect thighs tensed and he came _again_. It was getting ridiculous. Bruce still wrote down another note.

Steve was breathing harshly into Tony’s neck, clearly rocked with the force of that orgasm. Bruce watched as he began to circle his hips more slowly this time, like he was searching. For what, Bruce didn’t know until Tony let out a mewling gasp.

“Ah,” Steve panted. “Right there?”

Tony didn’t seem capable of nodding. He was shaking as Steve gently milked his prostate with his cock, each slow slide sending a desperate shiver up Tony’s spine. Bruce could barely stand how turned on he was, how much he desperately wanted help Steve coax Tony through another orgasm.

But, wait, he could help. “Steve, touch him.”

Some of the tension went out of Steve’s shoulder—tension Bruce hadn’t even realized was there. It took some maneuvering for Steve to throw Tony’s legs over his shoulders, but then he reached around and began to palm at Tony’s softened dick.

“That’s good,” Bruce told them. His glasses were slipping. He pushed them up. “Steve, can you come like this?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s forehead barely touched Tony’s sternum as he spoke. “Yeah, yes. I can rub myself off inside him. He’s so, so wet now, Bruce. Can you see?”

Yeah, Bruce could see. Tony was dribbling with it, slick with Steve’s come. “I can.”

“Ah, hell,” Steve cursed. “He’s so pliant. He’d let me do anything.” That got Tony’s cock finally twitching again in time with his desperate gasps. “I bet he’d let you do him nice and slow, too, Bruce.”

Bruce sucked in a breath. “Do you think?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t try anything. I know him; he’s always trying to rile you up and get you to, to, you know.” He kept grinding his hips as he talked. His back was slick with sweat. “But right now he’d let you do it. I bet he’d even let you make love to him.”

That warm feeling in Bruce’s chest blossomed like an unfurling flower, and he had to force himself not to stand and walk over to push Steve off and slide into Tony’s waiting body. He allowed himself to look down, though, to where Tony was gazing at him. God, he really did look like he would let Bruce do anything. His face was pleasure-slackened, his eyes nearly black from arousal. His fingers were gently curved and resting near his head, each one twitching in concert as Steve ground out dozens of tiny, breathless moans from him.

Bruce realized he was palming himself through his pants.

Shit. Bruce was in too deep. He had one foot on that slippery slope towards doom and there was no way he could go back.

“I want you to make him come,” he told Steve as he watched Tony. Tony’s face twisted in something that was almost concern, but he seemed incapable of speech. “For me.”

“Yes, Bruce,” Steve whispered against Tony’s skin. It was almost too quiet to hear. The light whisper sent a shiver over Tony’s skin.

Bruce kept palming himself, as lightly as possible. He told himself it was just to keep the edge off. That he wouldn’t let it go too far. But as Tony grew hard beneath Steve’s hands, he knew it was a lie. Tony looked so beautiful, stretched out and compliant, and Steve looked so sure and strong, that Bruce hardly knew what to do with himself.

Steve’s deft fingers soon had Tony glistening again. Tony’s moans were continuous now, punctuated only when he ran out of air and had to gasp for breath. Bruce could only stare into his bright eyes as Steve drew out the longest, slowest orgasm from Tony. Tony came, dribbling out over Steve’s fingers as Steve kept grinding into him until he went stiff and came as well. And, hell, Tony was too full to take it, and Steve’s come slid out of him as Steve stilled.

Bruce was still touching himself. He ripped his hand away. He tried to write something down, but he hands weren’t working right.

Steve sat up and carefully let Tony’s legs fall to the bedspread before starting to slide out.

“Oh,” Bruce said. “Are you, ah, done?” He tried not to sound disappointed.

“Er, no.” Steve looked chagrined. “Just thirsty.” And shaking, Bruce noted. Steve’s hands were quivering as he arranged Tony in a more comfortable position before slipping away to snatch a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

Bruce watched Tony curiously. He seemed dreamy, almost too dreamy. As Steve drained his water in three elongated swallows, Bruce was hit with the sharp notion that maybe something was wrong.

“Tony.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Are you alright?”

Tony’s dreamy gaze didn’t falter, but it did transmute into an equally-dreamy smile. “M’fine,” he slurred.

Before Bruce knew what was happening, he’d stood and walked over to the bed. Steve pressed another bottle of water into his hands without him needing to ask, and he uncapped it and held it to Tony’s lips.

“Here,” he whispered gently. “Drink some of this, okay?”

Obediently, Tony drank. His lips curled around the mouth of the bottle, and Bruce wished he’d thought to stock something with electrolytes. He glanced up at Steve, who seemed nervous, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Can I look at you?” he asked when Tony had finished half the bottle and made a weak effort to push the rest away.

“S’re,” Tony said, still slurring, but some of the awareness had come back to his eyes.

“Is he okay?” Steve asked, worried.

Bruce wasn’t sure, but Tony didn’t look hurt. As Bruce had suspected, two hand-shaped red marks had formed on his hips, but they didn’t look like they’d bruise too badly. He poked them but didn’t feel any muscle damage. Tony didn’t even flinch. Carefully, Bruce rolled Tony onto his side and examined his hole. It was shiny and slick with come, but there was no tearing.

Satisfied, Bruce rocked back on his heels. “He’s fine,” he said, actually a little surprised. Tony just seemed blissed out. He smoothed his hand through Tony’s hair and Tony nuzzled into the motion. “He just needs a break, I think.”

Sleepily, Tony nodded.

“That’s just fine,” Steve said briskly. “I can, uh, take care of myself.”

Bruce glanced askance at Steve. His erection had faded a bit with their Tony scare, but he was still clearly going strong. Bruce came to a snap decision.

He stood and brushed non-existent dirt from his pants. “No, we’ve come too far for that. I’m going into the other room. When I come back, I want you standing beside my chair with your hands behind your back, understood?”

Mutely, eyes wide, Steve nodded.

Bruce didn’t give him a chance to start moving. He strolled towards the bathroom and slipped through the door. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and was astonished by how calm he looked. He looked completely in control despite the fact he’d just decided to throw himself down that slippery slope, consequences be damned.

He quickly wetted a washcloth and returned to the room, pleased when he saw that Steve had obeyed him.

He eyed Tony carefully, but Tony seemed much better now. He even rolled to his side as Bruce entered, watching the proceedings with interest. Bruce actually liked the feeling of Tony’s eyes on him, although it made him self-conscious. He knew he couldn’t compete with Steve’s broad shoulders, or with Tony’s lean frame. But, if he kept his clothes on—which he fully intended to do—he wouldn’t have to worry about competing.

Steve was hard again, Bruce noted. Probably just from the orders. He gave him another as he tossed the washcloth at him. “Clean yourself off.”

He slipped into the chair when Steve caught the cloth, and watched as Steve wiped the fluids from himself. It was strangely entrancing to watch Steve clean himself off, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

He caught Tony still staring at them, his gaze now intense and focused. Bruce quirked a smile at him and Tony relaxed. “I won’t be as good as you were,” he told Tony. “But, maybe with a little practice, someday you’ll let me do this for you?” Bruce tried to communicate the rest through a meaningful look. The idea that if anything got out of control, Steve would be much more capable of handling it.

Tony relaxed completely at his words, his face twisting into something that Bruce could only describe as fondness, or maybe...no, it couldn’t be. Then he smirked and Bruce just had to shake his head. “Can’t wait,” he said.

Bruce gave him a fond smile of his own and turned back to Steve, who was staring at him like he’d never seen him before. Bruce found that a bit odd, so he focused on taking the washcloth from Steve and folding it over the arm of the chair.

Bruce tried to think back to all of the blow jobs he’d had in his life, and the handful he had given. To say it had been a while would have been an understatement, but he still remembered the gist of it. He scooched forward in his chair and ghosted a breath over Steve’s cock. Up close he looked way too big, but if Tony could do it…

He started to lean in just to get started with it, but Steve stopped him with a nervous sound. “Bruce, are you sure?”

Bruce glanced up at him over the rims of his glasses. Steve was still looking at him like he’d never seen him before, so Bruce considered. There was probably some line here they were getting ready to cross, or maybe the line was a few miles back buried under the desperate moans of Tony as Steve accidentally-on-purpose made love to him.

He glanced to Tony, who was looking at him like he was staring into the sun. His smirk had softened. He gave Bruce a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

“Let me do this for you Steve,” Bruce said. He barely managed to tear his gaze away from Tony to look imploringly up at Steve.

“Oh,” Steve choked. Bruce wondered if the looking-over-the-glasses trick was really that powerful. “Okay.”

He curved one hand around the base of Steve’s dick to hold him steady and finished leaning in. He started slow, tracing his tongue over the salty head and licking away the precome that seemed endless now. It was bitter, and it hinted at strange memories in his head, but he ignored it and continued. He wrapped his lips around Steve’s head and marveled at the smooth, hot sensation. God, it had been so long. Way too long.

“Bruce,” Steve said. He sounded desperate. Bruce could see his hands spasming into fists at his hips. “I, I need…”

Blindly, Bruce grabbed at Steve’s hand and raised it up to tangle Steve’s fingers in his hair. It immediately felt a thousand times better as Steve began petting him, cooing little encouragements at him as he sucked. Steve’s other hand came up to rest against the back of Bruce’s chair for support.

Bruce sighed and let himself sink into the sensation of Steve’s cock pulsing in his mouth. He traced a vein on the underside with his tongue and noted absently that Steve was indeed much hotter than a normal human. It was heaven.

Steve’s hand in his hair was amazing. That tiny contact, stroking him gently as he explored Steve with his mouth, felt real and solid. Bruce realized that he was picking up speed as he went down his slippery slope.

“Ah, Bruce, can you…? Just a little harder.”

Bruce complied. He caved in his cheeks and tightened his hand. He began to stroke Steve in time with the motion of his head, spreading slick saliva up and down his length. He wondered if it were possible to be addicted to sucking cock, because he didn’t think he could get enough of the silky feel in his mouth, the salt and skin hitting the back of his throat, the quiver in Steve’s thighs as he tried to hold himself still and not rut like an animal into Bruce’s mouth. He decided this was okay. He would add this to the list of things he could do with Tony, and as soon as Tony was up for it he would suck Tony down and give him the most intense blowjob of his life.

He slotted his gaze over to his Tony, who was clearly interested now. His eyes were sharp as he watched Bruce and Steve moving in tandem. Bruce realized that they’d positioned themselves perfectly to give Tony a good view of Steve’s cock disappearing into Bruce’s mouth over and over again, and he wondered if he had done that on purpose. He couldn’t remember over the heady feeling.

Tony kept dancing his fingers over his chest and stomach, then lower to touch his cock before yanking away. It was too much too soon. No way he could get hard again, but he clearly seemed disappointed by that fact. The thought of Tony wanting to jack off to the sight of Bruce blowing another man, blowing _Steve_ , was like fire in Bruce’s veins.

Bruce shivered. He sucked harder and pursed his lips around Steve. Steve was completely slick with his spit now, making each slide easy and right.

“Oh,” Steve said suddenly. “Bruce, I’m, I’m getting close.”

The hand in his hair began to twist and Bruce let himself be pulled away. He looked up in time to see Steve’s face slacken. Steve was watching him intently as Bruce keep stroking him once, twice, until Steve let out a gasp and began to come.

Bruce felt his mouth fall open as Steve spasmed under his touch, his come striping out to paint Bruce’s face. Bruce let it, relished in the taste that fell against his tongue. It was warm on his lips, his cheek. A drop fell onto his glasses and he didn’t even care.

“Good?” Bruce asked. His voice sounded rough to his own ears.

Steve laughed breathlessly. The hand in Bruce’s hair came around to thumb through the mess on his cheek. “I’m sorry, I got you all…”

“Better clean me, then.”

Steve could have reached for the washcloth. He could have used his hand, even. But he didn’t. His eyes went half-lidded as he leaned down, crouching such that he had to draw Bruce’s face towards him so that he could lick him clean.

Bruce had no idea how he’d let it go so far. He was achingly hard, and it only got worse as Steve’s warm tongue lapped at his face. He started at Bruce’s cheek, licking him clean before slipping down to trace over the corner of Bruce’s lips, then over his chin. It was so blindingly sexual that Bruce could barely stand it. Steve took his time as he gently cleaned Bruce.

Bruce managed to look over Steve’s head at Tony. Tony had two fingers shoved into his mouth and he was biting them, hard, as he watched. He looked desperate. He kept dropping his hand to his waist before ripping away again, unable to touch himself.

Steve licked one final path cross-ways over Bruce’s lips before stilling. They were so close. He could feel Steve breathing against his mouth. He was drowning in the blue of his eyes. Bruce had the wild, crazy thought that Steve was going to kiss him, but before he could decide how he felt about that Steve pulled back.

He straightened almost painfully fast and rubbed a sheepish hand against the back of his neck. “That was…” Steve paused to clear his throat. “Thank you.”

Bruce was completely out of his element, so he just nodded. His gaze fell to Steve’s waist and he realized (somewhat hysterically) that Steve had gotten hard again just from the act of cleaning him. He licked his own lips and, despite the ache in his jaw, figured he could probably make another go of it.

Before he could, however, Tony interrupted his contemplation. “Well,” he said, cutting through the haze like a knife. “I’m certainly well rested enough.” He wiggled his hips enticingly.

Bruce checked his watch and again noted with surprise how steady his heartbeat was. He wondered if his watch was broken, but no. He could feel his pulse beating in his neck. The whole thing was just so calm, almost relaxing.

“Do you have an estimate, Steve?” he asked, indicating Steve’s arousal with a flick of his eyes.

Steve looked bashful. “Well, uh, no. This is about the point I started getting bored before.” His dick was definitely not bored. It seemed quite interested, actually. “So, uh, if you need me to—”

“I like it when you screw Tony while facing him,” Bruce said. He gave Steve a dry smile. “Do that again.”

“Y-yes, okay.” Steve looked surprised. Awkwardly, he turned on his heel and walked back over to Tony, who was still stretched out enticingly.

Bruce had to search for his security blanket—no, wait, he meant his StarkPad and stylus. He found them forgotten on the floor and he picked them up to write down a few shorthand notes about what had just transpired. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and looked up just in time to see Steve slide into Tony’s body without preamble.

“Damn,” he murmured under his breath. He thought it was too low for them to hear, but Steve glanced up in concern. Bruce shook his head and made a _go on_ hand gesture.

He was in too deep. The thought of Tony’s body just completely open had his cock pulsing in his pants. He could feel a wet spot forming on his briefs, and it made him uncomfortable.

They were back in their earlier position with Tony’s legs over Steve’s shoulders, Steve pumping in and out of him with barely constrained desperation. His hands were firm against Tony’s ribs, and Tony started out just as relaxed as before, his own hands limp at his sides as Steve took him. Tony’s hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Of all the things, that was what made Bruce stand. He set his StarkPad aside. He walked across the room. He slipped onto the bed and lifted Tony enough that Tony’s head rested in his lap and he could card his fingers through Tony’s hair.

It was perfect. Steve looked up at him as he approached, a question on his lips. Bruce just nodded and he continued. Bruce could hear the wet, slick sounds as Steve set a moderate pace towards orgasm. He wanted to reach down and touch the place where Steve and Tony met, to feel how wet and open Tony was. But he didn’t.

He kept running his hands through Tony’s hair as Tony gazed up at him. His jaw was slack again, eyes already glazed. Bruce wondered if Tony’s earlier bliss had predisposed him to returning quickly to that state. Probably. He brushed a few strands of hair from Tony’s forehead and marveled at Tony’s adoring smile.

“Oh, Tony,” Bruce murmured. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Tony shifted up so he could brush the back of his head against Bruce’s erection. Bruce thought about stopping him. He thought very seriously about that. But in the end, he didn’t.

“You’re so good for me,” Bruce said. He tried to take all the warmth he was feeling and channel it into his words. “So good to let me do this to you. Letting me and Steve take you like this.”

Steve let out a strangled sound and Bruce glanced up. Steve looked uncertain, almost like he was going to stop. His movements had slowed considerably, so Bruce reached up. He traced his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip and smiled.

“I don’t deserve either of you,” Bruce mused. “You’re both too good for me.”

“God, Bruce,” Steve gasped. Tony hummed in content agreement. Steve leaned in, bending Tony’s pliant body just that much more, and took the pad of Bruce’s thumb into his mouth.

“Oh, that’s—” He cut himself off as Steve began to tongue lightly over his thumb as he slid into Tony. The feel of it was so gentle and warm. Bruce wanted that tongue all over him. He could still feel the echo of it, solid and slick, against his lips. He settled for letting Steve gently trace his tongue over the bed of his nail.

He was still stroking Tony’s hair and letting Steve demonstrate all the gentle, terrifying things he would do to Bruce if he could, when Steve’s movements began to falter. Tony shivered as Steve pumped into him haltingly and nipped lightly at Bruce’s fingertip.

Steve dropped his thumb went limp over Tony and for a split second Bruce thought it was over. That this was the final one. But then Steve looked up at him sheepishly and gave the barest twisting thrust of his hips, inquisitive.

“Of course,” Bruce said. “Of course, Steve. This is still for you.”

He wasn’t sure that was true anymore. It seemed like this, this whatever it was had become for all of them. All of them together in one screwed-up tangled mess as Steve rocked back on his heels and began to move again and Tony struggled to get Bruce off with just the back of his head.

“That’s not going to work,” he told Tony mildly. Tony pouted at him. At any other time, Bruce was sure he would have gotten a lecture about how Tony could bring a man to orgasm with just his ear if he wanted. Right then, though, Tony just melted into the touch of his fingers.

It was Steve who solved Tony’s problem. “Bruce, can I, uh, adjust?”

“Of course.” Bruce looked up at him sharply, surprised. His glasses nearly slipped right off his face, but he caught them. “Anything you need to do.”

Steve didn’t pull out. He just lifted one of Tony’s legs and spun him slowly so Tony was half on his side, his face now mashed into Bruce’s crotch. Tony immediately took advantage and began to nose against him as Steve went back to work at pleasuring himself.

This, Bruce noticed, also improved his view. He tried not to stare too obviously at the smooth slide of Steve in and out of Tony, but it was hard not to. Especially when he registered the flat expanse of Tony’s tongue trying to lick him through his jeans.

He tangled his fingers more deeply in Tony’s hair and let Tony mouth at him. He was so hard he was sure he would be purple by now. He should have put a stop to this. He should have left to give himself a muscle relaxant. He should have moved away, curled up on the floor, and done some deep breathing until his erection subsided. Instead he watched in abject fascination as Steve tensed and came inside Tony again.

Tony breathed out a hot sigh of contentment as Steve did it, so warm and welcoming that Bruce’s fingers itched to yank open the fly of his pants and slide into the slick warmth of Tony’s mouth. He could do it, too. Easily. It would be so easy just to let himself go.

He didn’t. He traced the shell of Tony’s ear with his finger instead.

“How,” Steve panted, dragging Bruce out of his contemplation. “How many is that?”

Bruce looked up at him. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Are you getting close?”

Steve let out a low, slow groan and nearly collapsed. “No,” he said. “No, it’s too good.” He was gazing intently at where Tony was still mouthing at Bruce. “Are you going to…?”

Bruce looked down just as Tony looked up, warm brown eyes desirous and eager to please. He wanted to, of course, but he shook his head.

“No. Tell me, instead. Tell me what Tony’s mouth felt like as you fuck him again.”

“Yes,” Steve said. His arms were shaking again, Bruce noted. “Yes, Bruce.” He twisted Tony more, until Tony was on his knees completely. But Tony seemed incapable of holding himself up, and Steve had to do it. His hands were tight against Tony’s hips as he began to move.

“He started so quickly,” Steve said. Each thrust sent Tony rocking against Bruce, and Bruce let his legs fall open. He let Tony mouth him through two layers and imagined that it was real. “He didn’t give me any warning. Well, you saw.”

Bruce nodded. He was entranced by the sight of Tony’s lips as they caught on the threads of his fly.

“He just sucked me right down and let me, let me fill out in his mouth. I said he wasn’t the very best, but you know I may have...I may have been misleading you.”

Each word was punctuated by a gasp, or a slap of skin-against-skin. Steve’s hands were the only thing keeping Tony upright enough for Steve to take him; the only thing keeping Tony lined up so that he could suckle desperately at Bruce, warm eyes glazed with need.

“He didn’t do everything he could have. I, ah, I could tell.” Steve slid forward and looped one arm under Tony’s waist to give himself a better angle. His other hand shifted to the small of Tony’s back, broad fingers splayed out over Tony’s spine. “His mouth was so warm and tight. He kept licking my head. But, I. But I think he could have taken me down all the way, you know.”

“Oh,” Bruce said. “I know.” He could see it in the way Tony’s throat bobbed with desperation. With one hand he tightened his grip on Tony’s hair and pressed Tony’s face against him a bit more firmly. It was good, so good. He could almost fool himself into believing it wasn’t really happening. That it was okay. That it was only Steve that it was happening to.

“I wish I could have touched him.” Steve said. His voice was thin, plaintive. “Like I touched you, Bruce. Fingers in your hair. I just...Feeling you, both of you. He was so rough and you were so, so gentle Bruce. I was afraid of hurting you, did you know that?”

Bruce tore his gaze away from Tony and looked, just looked at Steve. He didn’t know. How could anyone ever be afraid of hurting him? Bruce was sadly indestructible. But the pained expression on Steve’s face was real enough. The hand tangled in Tony’s hair stayed there, but his other hand rose up. Steve’s hand was still on Tony’s back, and Bruce grasped it. He held on for dear life.

“You can’t hurt me,” Bruce said and then, because it was what he knew he would want to hear, he said, “You wouldn’t. You’re too good.”

Steve strangled off some choked declaration and grasped Bruce’s hand in desperation. And this, this was what they were doing. They were holding hands while Steve fucked Tony and Tony lapped at the front of Bruce’s pants, searching for the taste of him.

“I need,” Steve said, but he couldn’t seem to get past that. “I need, I need,” he said again, and then he crumpled over Tony and his mouth went slack as another orgasm rocketed through him.

Bruce pressed Tony a little closer and Tony moaned around his bulge. Bruce was close, really close. He could feel the edges of it. But that scared him. He went completely still as Steve collapsed, his strong grip on Bruce’s hand the only thing indicating that he hadn’t fainted. Bruce very emphatically did not come.

Steve’s shoulders were shaking. Bruce gripped his hand a little tighter. Tony’s mouth on him was really very distracting, and he should probably put a stop to that, but that’s when he realized that Steve was laughing.

“Steve?”

“Aw, hell’s bells,” Steve said. His laughter was strange, almost manic. “This is never going to end, is it?”

Bruce really wasn’t sure what to say to that. It had to end eventually, right? No one could have infinite orgasms. “Drink some more water,” he said, instead of what he wanted to say which was, ‘Let’s keep going because I think I may eventually work up the courage to actually come.’

With a nod, Steve carefully pulled out of Tony and rolled over to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle and drained it quickly, then another which he sipped at.

Bruce managed to disentangle himself from Tony, which was disappointing, really. The front of his pants was soaked with Tony’s saliva, and Tony’s pretty pink lips were smeared and shiny. He looked debauched, not helped at all by how pliant he was as Bruce shifted him up to rest against his chest and make him suck down the rest of his earlier bottle of water.

“How are you feeling, Tony?” he asked. His nose was tickled by Tony’s hair as Tony sipped at the water. He tried not to look at all of Tony’s skin, laid out so invitingly before him. He remembered Steve’s earlier declaration that Tony would probably let Bruce make love to him, and he figured that would definitely be the case now.

“‘Mmgood,” Tony said. He nuzzled against Bruce’s chest and the hand that wasn’t pinned beneath him came up to fumble with the buttons of Bruce’s shirt.

“No, Tony,” Bruce said gently. He pushed Tony’s hand down and away. “You know I can’t do that.”

“C’mon Bruce,” Tony whined. “Just almost gave you a blow job. What’s a little skin compared to that?”

Tony had a point, of course. Bruce knew from experience that saying he shouldn’t have let that happen, either, would not be enough to dissuade Tony. Nervously, Bruce glanced to where Steve was sprawled out and watching them with curiosity. His water bottle was forgotten in one hand, and the other was sprawled perilously close to yet another erection.

Maybe it would never end, Bruce thought crazily. The thought intrigued him.

“Steve,” Bruce began carefully. “What would you like?”

“Hmm,” Steve began. He let the bottle slide from his fingers. “I think Tony’s on to something. Will you let him undress you while I touch myself?”

Fucking hell, yes, Bruce could do that. He could feel his eyes widening. He pushed his glasses up his nose even though they weren’t falling right then. The thought of it terrified and exhilarated him. Terrified, because then he would be naked and exposed and he was nothing compared to either of them; terrified, because he would be vulnerable as he skated down that slippery slope with nothing to seek purchase on. Exhilarated, because Tony would finally get to undress him, touch him, feel him; exhilarated, because _Steve Rogers_ would jack off at the sight of him.

He took a steady breath, but before he could decide to do it, Tony took over and began thumbing at the buttons on his shirt. He watched blankly as Tony undid the top one, then the next, before sliding his hand into Bruce’s shirt and smirking up at him.

Damn that smirk. Bruce had lost before he’d begun.

He leaned down and captured Tony’s lips with his own. Tony was still pleasantly giving beneath him, but focused now. Enough to continue unbuttoning his shirt until it hung open and he could smooth his hands over Bruce’s chest.

They shifted until Bruce was resting against the headboard and Tony was kneeling over one of his legs, still swaying slightly as he touched Bruce all over. They were kissing lightly, gently, and each time he started to work up the courage to lick his way into Tony’s mouth he would chicken out. He just keep kissing Tony and cupping the side of his face until Tony slipped his shirt from his shoulders.

That was when he registered the wet sounds next to them. He opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed and pulled away from Tony enough to see Steve—God, Steve. Steve touching himself. He had one hand on his cock and the other twirling around his nipple. Some absent part that was still convinced this was all for science noted that. Most of Bruce just thought _fuck_.

“Oh, Bruce,” Tony murmured against his collarbone. Bruce realized his shirt was completely gone now. “The things I want to do to you.”

Bruce traced his hands over Tony’s flanks, counting his ribs as he went. “You have no idea,” he responded in kind. He wrapped his hands around Tony’s thighs and slipped him up until Tony was straddling him. Tony pressed flush against his chest, skin to skin, his hands hot and probing on Bruce.

Tony slid up for another gentle kiss. Bruce kept them light, slow and luxurious in time with the tenuous control he had over his heartbeat. Everything was fine, he told himself. He had a tranquilizer on his wrist, and an early warning system besides that. Things would be okay.

He kept running his hands over Tony’s ass and thighs. Now that he’d started, he seemed unable to stop. Tony was irresistible, writhing against him and kissing him hotly until Bruce slipped one finger out to brush against Tony’s wet hole.

Tony pulled back with a gasp, just far enough to gaze at Bruce. Bruce held very still, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Tony just seemed to melt against him. He shoved his lips against Bruce, tongue begging for entrance that Bruce was powerless to deny. He opened his mouth and Tony licked his way in, and Bruce slipped one finger inside him and swallowed his moan.

The slick, wet sounds of Steve touching himself beside them was heady. He wanted to watch that, too, but Tony kept distracting him by sucking at his lower lip, tracing his teeth with his tongue, exploring his mouth. Tony was so loose and open that Bruce immediately followed up with another finger. He wasn’t too crowded, but he kept it at that. He traced Tony’s entrance until Tony was whining and then slipped in to twirl his fingers and spread Tony just that much wider.

Tony was hard again, weakly so, but still. Bruce was proud when he felt Tony rubbing against him in a search for friction. Tony suddenly abandoned his self-appointed task of plundering Bruce’s mouth and moved lower to suckle at his chin, his neck, his shoulder.

“Tony, Tony,” Bruce warned. “No teeth; no biting.”

“Bruce, I know.” Tony began rolling his hips, just slightly. Bruce wouldn’t have noticed but, well, he was currently fingerfucking him. “I would never.” He still got a little dangerous as he sucked a tiny hickey onto Bruce’s neck, his hands dragging through the hair on Bruce’s chest.

Bruce let out a low moan and rolled his head to one side, intent on distracting himself, but that was a lost cause. Steve was too wanton, too debauched. He’d clearly already come once just from the sight of them. Bruce had a moment to wonder when the hell that had happened, and feel disappointed that he’d missed it. But he wasn’t disappointed long. Steve was already working himself up again.

“I think,” Steve said thickly. “I think it’s working.”

Bruce felt a thrilling pride run through him. Just the thought of getting Steve so spent he couldn’t do anything more was exhilarating. Bruce wanted that. He twisted his fingers inside Tony and coaxed another moan that Tony spent on his skin.

“...Do you have any idea…?” Steve began, but he cut himself off. He bit down on his lip hard and his hand practically flew over his thick length. The sight of him was stunning. He was so bright and warm, skin flushed and gleaming. Bruce pulled Tony closer and felt all his warm skin and wished he could hold them both.

Tony arched against him and reached down to palm at Bruce’s erection. Bruce lifted into it, desperate, the thought of just throwing Tony down and sliding into him alongside his fingers was sudden and strong. He could do it. He wanted to. He needed to.

The slippery slope was terrifying. He scrambled for purchase.

He gently pushed Tony’s hand away and shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

Tony frowned. “You can,” he insisted. “I know you can.”

“No, not… not right now. Please, Tony. Just kiss me.”

Tony softened at that and leaned back in. His hips were rocking again, gentle and measured, as he kissed Bruce. He sandwiched his dick between them and rubbed himself off nice and slow.

Bruce kept one eye open, locked on Steve. It didn’t take long for what Bruce wanted, and as Steve coaxed another lonely orgasm from himself Bruce slipped his fingers out of Tony.

Tony groaned in complaint, but Bruce just kissed him once more, hotly, and let his head fall back to rest against the headboard.

“Steve,” he enquired mildly. “How’re we doing?”

Steve smashed his other hand against his face, his frightened grin the only thing still showing. “I can’t tell,” he managed. He was still touching himself as he watched them through his parted fingers. “I think it’s harder this time…?”

Tony nuzzled the hollow of Bruce’s throat, the rounded line of his collar bone. “Maybe he’s getting bored?” he offered.

Bruce considered that, decided he was okay with going to rehab for this, and then moved down to place his mouth directly on Steve’s cock.

He mostly got a mouthful of Steve’s fingers. He could feel Tony twisting off his waist to allow him to do it, and felt a strange level of satisfaction knowing their ability to work in tandem, to practically read each other’s minds, extended to the bedroom. Bruce shoved Steve’s hand away to use his own, spreading out all the white, slick semen he could to pave the way for a sloppy, wet blowjob.

Steve’s quiet, “Oh, God,” was muffled, and when Bruce looked up he saw Tony shoving his tongue into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s hand framed Tony’s jaw and held him oh-so gently as Tony kissed him. Tony’s dick was still that pleasant half-hard, and so Bruce didn’t resist as his hand moved of its own accord to wrap around his length.

Tony gasped into Steve’s mouth as Bruce began stroking him. It was a bit hard to juggle everything—to keep his tongue working Steve’s cock, and his hand working Tony’s, and his eyes fixed on their mouths sliding over one another and their tongues tangling, lips slick and pink and plump and full.

When Steve began to choke and Tony didn’t allow him to escape in time to warn Bruce, he didn’t care. He let it happen, and that still-for-science part of his mind noted that there did seem to be less intensity to this one. He sucked him down and swallowed each thick burst. He’d missed it, needed it, and when he twisted Tony’s cock in his hand he realized what he needed even more.

He needed Tony in his mouth. Right then. But he’d waited for quite a while, and had learned a lot of patience since Culver, and so he settled for letting Steve slip from his mouth and watching the two of them make out for a while.

Tony’s hands were everywhere. Scratching at Steve’s chest, twisting his nipples, snatching at his arms, pulling his hair, pressing against his neck. Steve’s hands were slow and gentle, both of them cupping the back of Tony’s neck to keep his head still and the kiss soft and probing.

Bruce kept stroking Steve, delighting in the little gasps he could wrend from the other man, until he was hard again. Then he politely cleared his throat and said, “Tony, I’d like you on your knees again.”

Tony wrenched away from Steve and fixed him with an intense stare. Bruce wondered what he looked like as he lay there, face inches from Steve’s cock. Were his lips still pink from pressure? Was his hair as wild as Tony’s, eyes just as intense and needy? He didn’t know, but whatever he looked like had Tony licking his lips and slithering down to his hands and knees and leaning in to kiss him.

Bruce kept his hand on Tony the entire time. Just enough to keep him interested.

He could kiss Tony forever, he decided. He let Steve fall from his grip and waited for Steve to slide away to position himself. He’d seen it so often he could picture it now: Tony, slick and wet, come sliding down his thighs, open and ready; and Steve, hard and aching, lining up to start that slow, gentle push inside.

He could taste the tenor of Tony’s moan as Steve did it, the debauchery of it mirrored in the twitch of his cock as Steve settled himself and began to slowly rock his hips. Bruce wanted to kiss Tony for as long as possible and so he got comfortable. He lay half-underneath him and kissed him sideways. He took a gamble on Steve’s refractory period and let Steve work himself through one more orgasm.

Then he got to work.

Before Steve had a chance to recover and start sliding into his next one, Bruce pulled away. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and sat up. “Steve,” he said, and he marveled at Steve’s wild blue eyes. “Sit back on your heels.”

Steve obeyed instantly, pulling Tony back with him. Tony’s knees spread naturally as he did so, one ankle slipping to each side of Steve’s bent legs to keep himself seated. Bruce liked that. Tony was so easy to work with like this.

“Good.” He brushed his hand through Tony’s hair and then dug his hands under Tony’s arms, lifting him up until Tony’s back was pressed solidly to Steve’s chest and Steve was breathing funny with how deep he was. “Nice and slow, Steve.”

Steve rested his chin against Tony’s shoulder and managed one nod, his eyes screwed shut, before he obeyed.

Bruce let his arms curl around both of them, his chest to Tony’s, his hands splaying across Steve’s back. He relished the ripple of Steve’s muscles as he held Tony’s hips against his own. He kissed Tony once, deeply, possessively.

“Do you know,” he breathed against Tony’s lips. “How much I want to taste you?”

Tony whined and spread his legs a little wider, let Steve slide a little deeper into him. “Yeah?” was all he managed to say.

Bruce smiled and said, “Oh, yes. Will you let me?”

“‘Course,” Tony choked. “Of course, Bruce.”

Bruce kissed him again, fierce and intense, and pulled away. Tony’s eyes were glazed, mouth slack and open and his lower lip quivering. He slotted his gaze to Steve, who had opened his eyes to look at them both. His mouth was parted, too, just slightly, and before Bruce could talk himself out of it he leaned in to drop one chaste kiss against Steve’s lips.

Steve let out a startled sound, but said nothing. Bruce tried to convey a lot of things with that quick kiss, mostly thanks for how much Steve was unwittingly giving him. Then he let himself slide down and take Tony into his mouth.

“Bruce!” Tony tipped his head back and thrust his hips up. “Please, oh please, _Bruce_.”

Bruce couldn’t say no to something like that. He marveled at the taste of Tony on his tongue. He could still taste Steve—hot, salty, and clean against the back of his throat—but Tony was rapidly overpowering him. Tony tasted like warmth and, strangely, like coconut. Bruce loved it; he loved that sweet flavor as he twirled his tongue around Tony’s head and pulled him into his mouth.

Tony’s hands were in his hair. Tony’s cock was in his mouth. He could hear Steve’s desperate sounds mixing in the air with Tony’s and he found it to be perfect. A chorus of moans and broken gasps and “more, please” and “yes.”

It didn’t take long for Tony to come one last time, weakly against the back of Bruce’s throat as Bruce fought his weak attempts to pull him away. Bruce swallowed that mouthful down and kept suckling gently as Tony went soft in his mouth. He could do this, he thought giddily. Any time he wanted. Anywhere. He could finally give something to Tony to go with all the beautiful things that Tony had given him; things like love and acceptance and family.

When Tony’s gasps turned slightly pained Bruce slowly pulled away. He lay Tony’s softened penis against his thigh, still moving gently with each roll of Steve’s hips.

Then he looked up and saw twin tear tracks down Tony’s cheeks.

“Tony!” He scrambled up; his hands rose to cup Tony’s face. “Tony, are you…?”

“Yes,” Tony slurred, then, “Kiss me. Please.”

Bruce felt that warmth in his chest expand and flow out through his fingertips as he pulled Tony in and pressed needy, thankful kisses to his lips. He felt hands on his body—more hands than seemed possible. Four of them, tugging him closer as Tony wrapped him into a hug and Steve rushed his fingers through his hair.

It was astonishing and when Steve asked, “Bruce?” and he breathed, “Yes,” into Tony’s mouth, Steve went rigid and came into Tony one final time.

They held very still, all three of them pressed together in a hot sticky mess, as Steve assessed the situation.

“Oh,” Steve said. Bruce pulled away from Tony’s bliss-slackened face to watch Steve blink in surprise. “I… think that’s it.”

“Okay,” Bruce said. His voice cracked at the end. He cleared his throat and let his hands drop. He let himself become disentangled from Steve and Tony. He sat back and crossed his legs and ignored the fact that he was so turned on he couldn’t breathe right.

Slowly, Steve lifted Tony up and away. Tony’s face twitched as he did it, and then his eyes fell to Bruce. Bruce had, up until that point, been expecting it to be over. He expected to clear his throat and politely excuse himself so that he could go and meditate and rid himself of this erection. But when Tony’s eyes fell to his, he knew that would not be happening.

He opened his mouth to say, “Tony,” but Tony’s tongue interrupted him so it came out like, “T-mmpf!”

Tony kissed him until he was lying flat on the bed, the top of his head barely hanging off the side. He must have brought Steve with him, because Bruce could feel Steve pressing along his side to nose at his neck.

“Thank you,” Steve whispered against his neck. Bruce couldn’t answer, what with Tony kissing all the air out of him. “Bruce, will you let us take care of you?”

Tony pulled away. Bruce realized his eyes were closed. He opened them. Tony was hovering over him with such a fond smile that Bruce’s heart clenched in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with this, with any of this.

He was racing towards the bottom of that slippery slope. He should have said no, but instead he said, “Yes.”

Tony shifted so he lay along the other side of Bruce, and both of them began to kiss at his neck and run warm hands all over his chest. “Mouth or hands?” Tony asked.

Bruce wanted to say mouth. “Hands.”

“Pants on or off?”

God, off. “On.”

Tony nodded against his shoulder.

There were mouths on his his collar bone, teeth grazing but not biting, tongues exploring his neck. There were hands on his chest brushing his nipples, tugging at his chest hair, trailing lightly all over his skin. There were bodies against his, holding him warm and safe and close as Bruce stared up at the ceiling and realized he had never felt more calm.

They both pressed their palms to his cock at the same time and began rubbing together in earnest counterpoint. Steve’s unnatural warmth would stroke up and Tony’s clever fingers would stroke down and Bruce could feel that intense, burning warmth pooling at the base of his spine.

“Oh,” he said as Tony sucked a gentle bruise onto his neck. “Oh,” he said again as Steve kissed the freckles on his shoulder. “Oh,” he finally managed as it became too much and his eyes slammed shut of their own accord and his jaw clenched and he came into their fantastic hands.

Something wrenched from his throat—some plea of desperation as his back arched and a rush of fire danced up his spine. It was too good, too perfect; he definitely did not deserve this.

He didn’t black out. If he had, he would have been terrified. But he still let himself feel calm and peaceful for one prolonged moment of near-ecstasy. As near as Bruce Banner could get to enjoying himself. When he finally pulled himself away, folded his consciousness back into the constraining box of not-oftentimes-getting-what-he-wanted, he could feel Steve and Tony gently kissing along his jawline until they met in the middle and each placed a final kiss on the corners of his mouth.

He took in a deep breath. Then another. He opened his eyes.

That fondness was back in their gazes. That fondness and maybe-something-else. He didn’t know what to do with the twin looks of gentleness in their eyes. Tony’s brown eyes and Steve’s blue were looking at him in such a way that it was terrifying in its ease.

He licked his lips and said, “Thank you.”

Tony was the one who needed cleaning up. Bruce let himself remain sticky and gross as he stumbled off the bed and into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and tried to believe he was as calm as he looked as he wetted another cloth with warm water. His hair was wild. His glasses were smudged so that he could hardly see out of them. His face was slightly pink. But, he looked completely in control. He told himself he was.

When he came back in Steve was offering Tony another bottle of water. Steve lay back to sip at his own, looking almost embarrassed as he watched Bruce clean Tony off.

None of them said anything as he cleaned Tony. Tony’s hands kept brushing against him as he did it. They trailed over his fingertips, cupped his elbows, danced down his bare forearms. Bruce knew if he looked up he would get caught in Tony’s intensity, and so he stayed focused on his task. When Tony was not exactly spotless, but cleaner, he pushed him to lay back against the bed and leaned over Tony’s prone body to finish by wiping Steve clean as well.

Steve was well and truly spent, now. Bruce noted this with clinical disinterest as he wiped Steve’s limp penis clean. Steve’s water bottle fell to the floor with a startlingly loud sound, and that was enough to break the trance the three had fallen into.

“So.” Steve licked his lips, cleared his throat, and frowned seriously. “I, ah, lost count.”

“Sixteen,” said Tony instantly.

Bruce finally looked at him and blinked in surprise. “That’s…”

“Yep.” Tony smacked his lips. “Not even a calendar of models could have prepared me for this. Good thing I could tag out.” He grinned devilishly at Bruce and waggled his eyebrows.

Bruce sighed, but he could feel his lips twitching in barely-contained joy. “I’m afraid I didn’t take very good notes near the end, however.” He shifted over the bed until he was lying face-to-face with Tony.

“That’s a shame,” Tony said, his smile belying the serious tone of his voice. Bruce watched as Tony reached behind himself and snagged Steve’s arm to draw around his waist, forcing Steve to lie spooned against his back. “We’ll just have to try again. At least now we have a good baseline.”

Steve was blushing into the back of Tony’s neck, Bruce could tell. He raised his hand and rested it on Steve’s hip, creating grounding contact between them. “Mm,” Bruce murmured. “The parameters will have to be much more strict.”

“A machine,” Tony murmured against Bruce’s shoulder. He sounded like he was falling asleep. “I’ll paint it red, white, and blue.”

Bruce laughed gently, and then laughed again when he caught sight of Steve’s pout. He gave Steve a reassuring smile and Steve practically melted under the force of it.

“Don’t worry,” Bruce said. He nestled them both a bit closer. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

Tony murmured, “I know.”

Bruce let himself believe it, too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Twenty-one is way too many orgasms to manage. Never again.)


End file.
